The fissure had narrowed so the sides here came within a short distance of each other. Again he tried to climb to the top, and by pressing against the two sides, he managed to ascend. With what gladness he finally found he was near the surface need not be told. He was so weak from the ordeal that he fell exhausted a short distance away from the brink. Quickly rallying, he tried to penetrate the gloom enough to enable him to get away from the place; but only blinded by the cimmerian blackness, he was forced to feel his way along as best he could, knowing that he was likely to stumble upon his enemies at any moment. In fact, he had not gone far before the sound of voices reached his ears. Listening a moment, he heard the harsh tones of Bird Burrnock give some command to his followers. Obliged to advance, if he moved at all, he crept nearer to the outlaw gang, moving with extreme caution, until he knew from the sound of their voices he was close upon them. As if to verify this, a faint gleam of light from their torch fell across his pathway. The leader of the party was saying something as he stopped, which he did not hear plain enough to understand. Listening more intently for the reply, he came near betraying his presence by a low cry, not at the words spoken, but the tone in which they were given. It was his father's voice! CHAPTER XXI. "WHAT JACK RIMMON SAYS, GOES." The little crowd about the post office at Six Roads looked with speechless amazement upon the riderless horse as the animal approached at a furious pace. "Something has happened to Dix!" exclaimed Mr. Rimmon. "I feared it. Come here, Jack; where is your master?" With a low neigh, the panting horse stopped beside him, the creature trembling in every part. Even Dan Shag was moved to emotion, and for the time he forgot to repeat his request for the mail pouch. "I wish you could speak, Jack," said the postmaster, patting the horse's head. "Where did you leave him?" "It's pas' six!" broke in Shag. "Reckon ye'll let me hev th' government traps?" "Not yet, Dan. Wait till we learn the fate of Little Snap." "Don't see wot thet hes to do with me. I hev been 'p'inted to carry thet mail, an' every minnit ye keep yit frum me makes ye liable fer damages. Reckon ye wouldn't want 'em to know at Washington 'bout this yer foolery." Mr. Rimmon paid no heed to these words, which fact perhaps enraged the impatient Shag more than any reply would have done. "Look hyur, Jack Rimmon! air ye goin' to let me hev thet mail—right off—ter wunst?" Mr. Rimmon's reply fairly took away his breath. "No, sir!" At first the would-be mail carrier could not believe his ears. "Wot's thet ye say, Jack Rimmon?" "Stand aside now, Mr. Shag; there is more important matter on hand than your business. I will talk with you about this mail matter when I have more leisure."